


What's Black and Red and Red All Over?

by Otoshigo



Series: MLB - Oneshots [16]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Because Deadpool, Comedy, F/M, Humor, Not Stan Lee, Romance, deadpool is a shipper, gratuitous cameos, lots of blood, the 4th wall - it breaks, warning this is comic deadpool not movie deadpool, worlds collide and they really shouldn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 05:16:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otoshigo/pseuds/Otoshigo
Summary: Deadpool comes to Paris for a job, where he has a run in with Ladybug. It goes just about as well as you’d expect. Can Ladybug and Chat Noir, or even Paris, survive the merc?





	What's Black and Red and Red All Over?

**Author's Note:**

> I am truly sorry for this. I just... for some reason my mind keeps overlaying the romantic music from ML with the sax from ‘Careless Whisper’ (I’m not joking, it always slips in there somehow), which makes me think of the Deadpool movie soundtrack, which made me think of red and black superheroes and then one thing led to another and... Yeah, don’t ask me how my mind works. I’m still trying to figure it out.
> 
> Also, I’m making a deliberate switch from Hawkmoth to Papillon as of now. I don’t know why, Papillon always sounded more proper/sinister to me. I don’t even know what a Hawkmoth is.

 

“Ahhh~ I love the smell of blood money in the morning~”

It was a fine morning in Paris. The cobbled streets were empty, dawn just beginning to break over the stone facades. The smell of fresh flowers and baking bread filled the air... Oh, and the stank of the blood soaked into his red and black suit.

It was a smell that he was so used to that he didn’t even give it a second thought.

Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth, Weapon X Reject, and all around Asshole, hummed gaily to himself as he fanned through the bloodstained Euros that came from his most recent hit. Some Armenian mob boss that a bunch of Ruskies wanted to ‘send over the fjords’ shall we put it. Chances were, either the Armenians would come after him or they’d hire him to ex-nay some vodka soak in return. Either way, win-win.

One of the doors to the street opened up and a little old lady stepped out into the morning light. She stopped dead in her tracks as the red and black suited, heavily armed mercenary, with guns and buns of steel (and two katanas) strode by her door, still bleeding from the gaping wound to his side.

“Howdy,” he called in his admittedly broken Canadian French, giving her a big wave that let out an extra large spurt of blood.

The little old lady’s eyes went as wide as saucers. Then she ducked back inside and slammed the door shut behind her.

_Tch! Parisian snobs!_

Suddenly, a warm rosy-colored wave passed over the streets, making the merc halt in his tracks. His still healing fatal wound to his side zipped up faster than you could say Hakuna-Matata. That he could dismiss. The fact that his suit smelled so fresh that it felt like he took a bath in a vat of Febreze, not so much.

Something flew overhead. An achingly familiar sight, a slender body arcing through the air on a razor-thin thread. Although far more petite than he was used to and in a red and black spotted bodysuit instead of red and blue. “Spidey~!” Deadpool called, waving his hands over his head. “Spidey, whatcha doin’ in Paris, brah!”

The hero glanced back, which is when he realized that said superhero also happened to be sporting breasts and pigtails. “Huh, that’s new,” Deadpool muttered, scratching his head. However, the Spidey-lookalike only gave him an odd look, before continuing on her way. “Hey wait!” he called after her, “How’d you get girly-fied!”

Then his cellphone so rudely interrupted him, forcing him to a screeching halt. It had all the makings of an unexpected plot twist. “Yello,” he said into the phone.

“You do not kill Bedrossian,” a heavily accented Russian voice accused over the line.

Say _what_ now? “What do you mean I didn’t kill him?” Deadpool demanded. “I gave you his head in a basket! It was bleeding all over your desk. I got the gaping hole in my side to...”

Oh.

Oh _shiiii-_

“It is not,” the mobster replied. One could just imagine the girthy man behind it, sitting behind a heavy wooden desk perfumed with incense and tossing back vodka. “My desk is _clean,_ and so is my safe. You vill redeliver head to me or give back my money.”

“Oh, nu-uh, no way! I earned this moolah already! Ain’t my fault the dude mighta popped back to life!” the merc argued. “...But seriously though, is there some kind of resurrectionist I gotta know about?”

A heavy sigh sounded over the line. “Dat is Ladybug problem. Dis- dis _girl,_ she is bad for business. Unfortunately, akuma she deal vit are even vorse. So ve deal vit her like bad smell in garden. Ignore her.”

 _Ladybug, huh? Sounds an_ awful _like that bug-girl swinging around. What a coinkidink!_

But back to the matter at hand. “That ain’t my problem,” Deadpool replied as he picked his ear. “You never told me that you have a hero that can unzap the dead. I’m a pay-per-kill kinda guy, not for services rendered.”

The Russian’s agitation was clear in the angry silence. “Then...” the mobster said in a low, dangerous tone, “you had better hope dat Bedrossian find you first, before ve paint streets red vit your bloo-.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, _tata~”_ Deadpool said, abruptly ending the call. Welp, looked like he was going to have both Ruskies and Armenians after him. Normally, that meant it was high time to tail it out of there.

 _...However,_ this Ladybug girl intrigued him. Probably not Spidey zapped into a girl then. _BUT_ that didn’t mean that the kid (and he’d seen enough suits to tell she was a kid) wasn’t somehow involved with him. Which could only mean...

 _GASP! A possible French love child?! Spidey, you_ dawg!

This he _had_ to look into.

...Right after he blew his money on some green fairy, hookers, and chocolate lingerie. If he was getting hunted down for this cash, he may as well make the most of it.

~o~

It took some doing, but after days of hiding out and watching the news in a rather seedy hotel in a rough part of town, news finally came over the TV of another ‘Ladybug’ sighting. He ‘acquired’ a pastel green moped in the street, high tailing it to Montparnasse where the rescue was happening. As he got there, he saw the ‘net’ overhead, something black and red zip-zipping over the street. Just in time to see the net catch a falling helicopter overhead.

_Oh yeah. That’s a Spidey trick alright. If my name ain’t Anna Parnassas._

“HEY~!” he called again, waving his arms overhead as he stood atop the still moving scooter. (He was wearing a helmet. Safety first!) “Hey Bug Girl!”

Ladybug looked down, her eyes widening as he promptly crashed into a lamp-post. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” she asked, keeping her hold on her wire.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. You just do your thing, girly,” Deadpool replied, slapping his cheeks to spark his nose into un-indenting his face from the lamp-post. With a very concerned frown, Ladybug did, helping the helicopter pilot and passengers down from their very precarious position over the streets.

Afterwards, she dropped down to the pavement to check on him. “Um, sir? Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked worriedly, looking him over with bright blue eyes. Gosh, she even sounded as goody-two-shoes as Spidey. ...Before he found out what the merc was really like.

“Ain’t nothing I haven’t recovered from before,” Deadpool replied, hands on his hips as he cracked his neck with a careless twist of his head. “But let’s talk about you!” he cried, putting a strong hand on her shoulder. “Aren’t you just the cutest-wutliest little thing! _LOVE_ the colors,” he gushed. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know my main man, Spidey, would you?”

“Uh...” she answered unintelligibly.

“Oh, pardon my manners!” he said, taking both her hands to shake them vigorously. “I’m Deadpool, merc extraordinaire, part-time superhero. From Canada, if you can’t tell from the accent. Also happen to be best buddies with Spider-Man.”

“O-oh... okay...?” Ladybug said, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I’ve heard of him, but I’ve never had the pleasure.” Her rather telling silence afterwards said _‘But I’ve never heard of_ you. _’_

_That’s probably for the best, considering._

“You sure?” Deadpool pressed. “Not even any random letters from an anonymous benefactor? Or a special delivery with your suit? No mysterious adoption letters in your parents’ attic?”

“...You’re trying to imply something, aren’t you?” Ladybug asked flatly, frowning at the odd tourist to Paris. She took her hands back, looking like she wished she could wash them off. She settled on folding her arms over her chest, settling on glaring up at him. Looking so much like a mini-Spidey that it killed him. (Not literally, obviously.) “I can promise you, I am not in any way, shape, or form associated with Spider-Man,” she snapped. With a flick of her wrist, she sent out her wire, a _yo-yo,_ up to the rooftops. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going back-”

“Hey, wait, waitwait,” Deadpool said, raising his hands to flag her back down. “Didn’t mean to offend you, little lady... bug.” Sure, he wasn’t going to press the issue. (Even though he knew he was right.) Now though, he wanted to get a bit more information out of her, before he took this back to Spidey back home. If he wasn’t going to get any answers out of this girl, he’d rather get some proof to shove up into his bud’s face. “Now, I’m not in town long, but I wouldn’t mind hangin’ and giving you some pointers to this whole superhero gig. I’ve been at this for a looong time.”

Once again, he was given a long and considering look.

“...I’ll think about it,” she allowed, uncrossing her arms from her chest. Her eyes flicked to the gathering crowd and the beginnings of a media-circus from her latest heroics. “For now, I gotta go. Don’t get up to any trouble.”

“Sure won’t!” Deadpool replied cheerfully, fingers crossed behind his back. He waited until she was far gone before he added, “...Much.”

_Fudge-monkeys, should have gotten a selfie! Oh well, nothing a chimichanga won’t fix. As long as this fanfic writer can magic one up across the street. Chimichanga factory.... now! Now? ...Dammit._

~o~

Marinette kept a wary watch out for Paris’ strange new visitor the next day as she headed over to school. There wasn’t all that much talk of this Deadpool person, but as far as she knew, he’d been keeping pretty much to himself until now. However, she knew very well who _would_ have information on someone like this...

“Deadpool?” Alya asked, raising both eyebrows. Both were sitting at their desk as usual, waiting for class to start. Then her eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh! Yeah, I have heard of him!” Pulling out her tablet from her bag, she immediately accessed her favorite superhero database. She pulled up an entry of what was undoubtedly the strange suited man Marinette ran into the day before. “He’s an on again off again superhero from the United States, although technically he’s Canadian. He’s got the usual stuff like superhuman strength, speed, and agilities. Master martial artist. His biggest strength is his healing factor, which makes him immune to possession and he can recover from being almost completely liquidated. He’s pretty much immortal and invincible! He’s really awesome actually.”

“Does he know anyone called Spider-Man?” Marinette asked, once she stopped cringing at the thought of body liquidation.

“Mmm~ yeah, looks like they’re friends,” Alya said, looking from her tablet up to her friend. “Why do you ask?”

Well, this was probably going to be a bit awkward to explain. Very carefully checking her wording, the designer replied, “Well~ I might have overheard him talking to Ladybug about it and-”

At once, the blogger’s entire demeanor changed. “Wait, wait, he’s _here?!”_ she cried, looking on her friend with absolute horror. “Mari, you have to stay away from him! That guy is completely psycho!”

“I thought you just said he was awesome!” Marinette protested. Sure, the guy she met wasn’t quite... right, but he didn’t seem totally off the rails. ...Aside from crashing and burning straight into a lamp-post for no good reason.

“In the abstract!” Alya retorted hotly. “Doesn’t mean he’s a good guy to be around! He has legit mental issues, girl! It’s not safe to be around him!”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

The blogger’s excitable state inevitably attracted the attention of the boys in the front row, as the pair of them looked up at the girls with varying degrees of concern. “Who’s not safe?” Adrien demanded, his sincere good-heartedness making Marinette swoon just a little. Of course, _he_ would be looking out for them, unwarranted or not.

“Marinette spotted this psycho killer hero talking to Ladybug,” Alya explained urgently, holding out her tablet to the pair.

“Wait, _what?!”_ the blond cried in horror, as Nino took the tablet to read it.

He was decidedly less concerned. “Alya, babe, I don’t think he’s going to do anything to Marinette of all people,” he said as he scrolled through the database entry. “...Ladybug might be in a liiiittle bit more trouble though.” Adrien snatched the tablet away from his friend, taking his own turn at hurriedly skimming it.

Feeling just a bit put out by the lack of faith, Marinette demanded, “Why’s that?”

“Well, this guy’s a mercenary, right?” Nino reasoned. “He could have been hired by some bad dudes who’d want to off Ladybug. I mean, he could have even been hired by Papillon!” At this point, Adrien began to look a little green around the gills.

“It wasn’t anything like that!” Marinette objected hotly. “He was just- He was being friendly, in a very weird way. And Alya, you said he’s immune to possession, so it’s not like we have to worry about him getting akumatized.”

“He’s immune because he’s crazy!” Alya cried.

“And that’s another thing!” the designer chastised, her epic temper beginning to flare. Once she got started, it was almost impossible to talk her down. “Just because he has mental problems is no reason to be prejudiced against him! Aren’t the mentally ill stigmatized enough as it is?”

Alya, Nino, and Adrien exchanged an awkward look between each other, as the raven haired designer fumed in righteous indignation. Cautiously, Adrien stood and put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he admitted, although his expression looked as pained as though he were pulling a tooth, “...although just to be safe, maybe just let Chat Noir and Ladybug handle him, okay?”

 _I am Ladybug!_ she wanted to protest, but of course she couldn’t. Besides it was impossible to direct her anger at the golden perfection of Adrien’s visage. _“...Fine,”_ she sighed, squeaking only a little bit when the blond smiled and squeezed her shoulder. She was still a little pink as the boys faced forward when Mme Bustier entered the room. However, she nudged her friend in the ribs with an elbow. “If I’m not supposed to go near him, you better not be looking for him either,” she said in a low tone to her bestie.

“But- Marinette...” Alya objected, before her voice died under her friend’s withering glare. “Oh _fine,_ I guess that’s fair. If I happen to see him near Ladybug all bets are off though.”

“Deal,” the designer agreed. Both of them smiled as they shook on it.

~o~

“Ahhh~ I love the smell of blood and guts in the morning~” Deadpool said, in a rather obvious segway away from Marinette’s POV.

Out in a rather sketch warehouse district, he kicked the large warehouse door closed, hiding away the mass of bodies, dismembered limbs, and gore inside. That was the Armenians and the Russians all one and done. If he had a big red bow he would have used it. He had to settle for using some detached arms smeared in blood instead.

It was sort of bow-like.

He was sure the local fuzz would appreciate the thought. “Man, I could use a drink after that,” he said as he stretched, walking down the empty street. Hmm, his swords were still covered in the Ruskies’ blood, wasn’t it? Deadpool whipped his baby out, tugging up the bottom of his mask to take a long red lick. He gagged and went for the other, “Ick, Armenian.” He lapped at his other baby, trying to see if he could get a hint of vodka. Maybe? Maybe, no. Damn.

“Hey! You!” a voice called from overhead, on top of one of the warehouses.

Deadpool’s head whipped up. Maybe not the wisest course of action as it took a huge slice of his tongue out with it. Blood gushed from the wound, as it was wont to do, creating a crimson waterfall down his front.

Ladybug screamed, her face white with horror, as she covered her mouth with her hands.

“Nuh-ah-i-o’ay! ‘Ee! O’ally ine!” Deadpool blubbed, waving his hands frantically. Before she did something like- Oh damn it.

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

_Oh god-damn fudge-munkering biscuit cakes!_

In that annoying wash of warmth, his tongue was healed. Right zipped back up. Which let him yell, “Sorry, sweetcheeks! We gotta go!” Skittering up to her level, he took her hand and ran. Before the ballsacks of Armenian and Russians woke up from the dead and either came after him or decided to have a shoot’em up.

Either way, they were long gone before it got to that. They only stopped when they were back in some quaint little neighborhood in old Paris. “Whew! Close one!” Deadpool cried, wiping his forearm over his masked brow. Then he turned to the little lady, who was still staring at him in alarm. “Bug-muffin, I would _really_ appreciate it if you quit trick that while I’m here. I find it incredibly unnerving. M’kay? Okay.”

“What did you do?!” Ladybug demanded, her eyes wide with understandable concern.

“Oh gee, well, ladies mostly,” Deadpool replied, “but I’ve depending on the ass, I’ve done plenty of dudes too. Oh and Death and a demoness. And don’t ask me what I’ve done when I’m drunk, but I think there might’ve been a chicken once-”

“Please. Stop. Stop talking,” the little lady squeaked, her face going bright red. Oh, she would learn. She would absolutely learn. Something on her ear beeped, and she looked back up to him. “Look, I just have two questions. How long are you here and do I need to worry about you?”

Silence answered.

“Oh, am I allowed to talk now?” Deadpool asked, whilst Ladybug rolled her eyes heavenward. “Oh! Right, well, a liiiiittle longer than I was expecting,” (as of five minutes ago) “but _naaah~_ I’m a sweetheart, sweetheart. OH! Selfie-time!” he cried, whipping out his cellphone. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into a selfie. It captured her semi-confused and alarmed expression and his handsome masked mug. All in all, not a bad shot.

Something beeped again. It was making him nervous. “Okay, soooo, that’s not a bomb, right?” he asked. “Because I’ve got some raging flashbacks comin’ hard right now that are making me both scared and horn-”

Ladybug put a hand to her ear. “I have to go,” she said, darting towards the edge of the rooftop. “Don’t do anything!” She swung her yo-yo out, catching onto another rooftop across the street.

“You mean anything stupid?” Deadpool asked.

“No, I meant _anything,”_ Ladybug sniped back over her shoulder. With a jump, she swung off into the distance. Off to wherever her little bug lair was probably.

...Oh, she was _so_ Spidey’s French love-baby.

~o~

Ladybug was unpleasantly surprised to find that Deadpool was still in town. He happily pranced into the street, the next time she and Chat Noir were taking out an akumatized victim so styled Glitter Bomb. “Hiya Bug-Muffin! Just passing through!” he called, as she and Chat raced across the building facades, doing their best to avoid the glitter missiles. “Ooh, sparkly!”

“What the- What’s he doing here?!” Chat Noir demanded, as he looked briefly away from the opponent to the red and black suited merc below.

Once Chat Noir was noticed, Deadpool’s masked eyes went wide. “Wait, a Black- You have a Black Cat too?! Are you kidding me?!” he howled gleefully, spinning around in place as he watched the two miraculous users circle in the area.

“Deadpool!” Ladybug barked, at the end of her rope, “If you’re going to stay, then do something useful and distract her!”

“Ooh~! My speciality!” the merc said, rubbing his hands together. He ran off straight towards the villain to do just that.

 _“What?!_ That’s my job!” Chat protested, momentarily distracted himself. He let out a yowl, when his lady used her yo-yo to grab his ankle to pull him away from an oncoming missile.

“I got a different job for you, kitty. Don’t worry,” Ladybug winked. That buttoned Chat up, right quick. He only had about two seconds to blush, before the pair were forced to move again.

As advertised, Deadpool was really good at being distracting. Maybe a little bit too good at it as his... _colorful_ language also made the junior superheroes take pause. Nonetheless, with three sets of superhands on deck, the akuma was purified in near record time.

With the victim dispatched, Ladybug and Chat Noir were left with one grinning Deadpool on their hands. At least... he _looked_ like he was grinning. It was really hard to tell with the mask. Understandably, Chat looked wary of the new arrival. Deadpool was more than a little infamous after all. Her partner stood protectively at her side, arms folded over his chest as he glowered at the red and black suited hero. Ladybug sighed in exasperation at his behavior. First her friends, now Chat? Why didn’t anyone think she could take care of herself?

“Well, that was bracing!” Deadpool declared, hands folded behind his head. “Nothing quite like supernatural glitter bombs. Although I think I got some down my asscrack. That’s gonna be impossible to get out. That’ll be interesting for the next guy that-”

Ladybug coughed loudly, before the merc said something that would break Chat’s mind. (She always suspected he might be a little more innocent than he let on. There was no way any of his pick up lines could have _ever_ worked.) “Well, thanks for the help. You’re not... _horrible_ to work with.” Her tone did not imply that it was a compliment.

“All in a day’s work, Bug-muffin,” the merc replied. Chat’s scowl only grew darker. “Although if you want any pointers on going really stabby-stabby on them, I’ll be happy to show you the ropes.” He looked over his shoulder to the empty street and said in a stage whisper, “But nothing too graphic. This is still a kid’s show. Oh, and pardon my French earlier.”

 _Who the hell is he talking to?_ Ladybug wondered, both eyebrows raising.

Before she even had the chance to respond, Chat butted in. “Milady, you’re not _seriously_ considering his offer, are you?” her black-clad partner demanded, giving her an imploring look. “This guy is crazy!”

Ladybug twitched. Well, she _hadn’t_ until just now. “I think I can take care of myself, kitty,” she replied haughtily, folding her arms over her chest. Which is when they heard the familiar beep. “Just like you need to right now,” she pointed out, nodding to his ring.

Chat let out a small frustrated growl as he looked at his ring, a full three minutes shorter than his lady’s time. Torn between protecting her and keeping his identity uncompromised, he looked between the red and black pair for a few seconds longer, before he gave it up. “Okay, fine. _Call me,”_ he insisted, backing up to head off. Sending off one last dangerous glower at Deadpool, he took off for safety.

“Ahhh~ young love!” Deadpool gushed, clasping his hands together under his chin as his leg kicked up. It was _mortifying._ “How _cuuuute~_ How long have you two been together?”

“Wh- we’re not together!” Ladybug cried in horror, waving her arms wildly to dismiss the idea. The last thing she needed was for some horrible rumor to spread all throughout the superhero community about her and Chat. “I like someone else!”

“Oooh! A love triangle!” the merc gasped, “And the plot thickens! Lemme guess, he’s the super popular one at school who’s completely out of your league, like an actor or a model, and you act and look like a fool every time you try to talk to him?”

That was so on point it was terrifying. A cold sweat broke out over her, her eyes going as wide as saucers. “How did- How do you-!” she stammered, her face going as bright red as her suit. _“How did you know that?!”_

“I knew it! I knew it! You _are_ Spidey’s kid!” Deadpool cackled gleefully. “You’ve got the exact same love troubles!”

“For the _last time-”_ Ladybug started, before she suddenly stopped. “...So exactly how did it go with him?”

“Absolutely terribly,” the merc replied, waving a dismissive hand. “He didn’t even get the girl for years and years, then when he did, it became this whole thing, like love triangle on massive proportions, between her and him and Black Cat. So much _drama!_ It had Telenovela Emmy written all over it! Then I think Black Cat curses him, his wife ended up sucked into a different dimension or dead, I can’t remember, and it’s all kind of one big shit show.”

Ladybug stared in absolute horror, the blood draining from her face until she was as white as a sheet. Then her earrings beeped, reminding her of how precious her time left was. “Wh- Well what do I do?! How am I supposed to fix this?!” she cried, grabbing him by his sword straps.

“Whoa, easy, easy there, Buggy-nut Milkshake,” Deadpool replied, holding his hands up to placate her. “That’s easy. You gotta get your dream boy now before it’s too late. Ya gots ta put a ring on it, single lady.”

Her earrings beeped again. Two minutes left. “Yes, but how?! _HOW?!”_ she shrieked, beginning to shake him.

“Slap him,” Deadpool replied, freezing Ladybug in her tracks. The merc gave her what she could only assume was a winning smile underneath his mask. “Works on me _every time_. It just keeps ‘em comin’.”

Ladybug twitched. Her mouth bobbed, trying to articulate _why_ that was a horrible idea and would never work. However, her earrings beeped again and she had to _go,_ before she gave her most precious secret to a slightly unstable mercenary. “I- fine! Don’t go stabbing anyone while I’m not looking!” she called, beating a hasty retreat back to obscurity.

“Does this mean I can stab things when you are looking!” Deadpool called after her.

~o~

The next day, Marinette considered the back of Adrien’s head long and hard. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Deadpool’s horror story of Spider-Man’s love life out of her mind. What if she really did let this go on for too long? What if Adrien moved onto someone else? What if Chat Noir put some kind of permanent claim on her? Oh no! What if Adrien and Chat Noir got into a fight to the death?! She couldn’t handle it!

Against _all_ of her better judgment, her frenzied fantasies began to overtake her. Her whole body broke out into a cold sweat, heart thundering in her chest as the thought of Adrien getting sliced open by Chat Noir played over and over again in her mind. She _had_ to do something! Adrien’s life was at stake! As well as her future love-life!

After school, she went straight to Adrien. The magnificent blond stood on the steps of the college, chatting amiably away with Nino. Alya only watched with eyebrows raised, sensing the determination in her bestie. Sensing her approach, the boys turned up to their classmate. Adrien’s face lit up as he saw her, giving her a guileless smile and a wave, “Hey Marinette, what’s-”

_SLAP_

The model froze mid-wave, eyes wide as his struck cheek began to pinken. An audible gasp went through the onlookers, while Nino and Alya’s jaws dropped to the floor. Adrien’s neck seemed to creak as he slowly turned to stare at the raven haired designer, literally dumbstruck.

“Marinette! How dare you strike my beautiful Adrien’s face!” Chloe shrilled from the top of the stairs, jolting the frozen designer out of her stupor. Marinette’s face was bright red, looking as though she were ready to pop. Without a word, she tore off across the street, towards her home.

Nino whirled on his best friend at once. “What did you _do?!”_ he cried, utterly horrified and incredulous.

“Wha- I didn’t-! I didn’t do anything!” Adrien protested, his voice pitched to a high shrill. “I have no idea why she just did that!” Suddenly, he was tackled from behind, assaulted by Chloe’s whole body and her expensive perfume.

“Adrien! Are you alright?!” Chloe demanded, whirling him around to inspect his pink cheek. “Oh, how could she do this to you! My poor Adrichoue! Here, let me kiss it better!” she cooed, her lips puckering up to lean into his face.

“NO! No!” the model cried, trying to pry his cousin-figure off of him before she grossed him out beyond repair. “I’m okay! I got to go! I got- uh- photoshoot! See ya!” he cried, dashing off to the safety of his limo with only a wave goodbye to Nino.

Once Adrien was alone (well, as alone as he could be with Plagg in his pocket and the Gorilla driving), his mind worked furiously, trying to figure out why his sweet, shy, adorable classmate would want to _slap_ him. He must have done something, or at least, she must think that he did something. But what?! What possible reason could she have to- to-

 _Gah!_ This was going to drive him up the wall until he found out!

His bag practically vibrated from the sudden deluge of calls and texts coming to his phone. He whipped it out, only to see if there was anything from Marinette, an explanation, an apology, _anything,_ but it was too unwieldy to search as he was hit with notice after notice after notice.

Well, he knew this much. The tabloids were going to have an absolute field day with this one.

~o~

The cashier at the local supermarche stared up at the red and black suited mercenary as he came up to the register, whistling a little diddly, sporting his katanas, guns, and a little handbasket filled with cheese, bread, and wine. As they say, when in Rome...

“Good mornin’! Lovely day out, isn’t it?” Deadpool said cheerfully, as he dumped the basket in front of the gaping cashier. Searching his pockets, he pulled out several guns onto the counter before he let out a frustrated huff. “Damn! Left my wallet in my other suit. You’ll take an IOU, right?”

The cashier whimpered and nodded, eager to get the heavily armed man out of the store as quickly as possible.

Deadpool’s eyes caught onto the rows and rows celeb rags by the register. Big, bright flashy text always had a way of drawing his attention. (If anyone ever found out, he’d be doomed to a life of... hoarding.) There was only one story of the day, with bold titles such as: **_Adrien Agreste, un Dragueur?!_** and **_Une Copine Secrete! Qui est Marinette Dupain-Cheng?_** and **_Adrien et Chloé: Un Couple Plus Maintenant!_** All of them had the exact same candid picture, a little blurry, but also so very clear. A raven haired, pig-tailed girl with bright blue eyes, slapping the face of a boyishly handsome blond.

Snatching it up, Deadpool let out a loud cackle of glee. “I’m taking this too!” he announced to the cashier, before he strolled out into the street with his ‘purchases’. He poured over the tabloid pages, grinning madly to himself. Hot damn, she made this way too easy. Though it begged the question why no one put the pieces together before now.

_Eh, Superman-effect. Never underestimate the power of scant eyewear._

For now though, he had to think of a plan to kill the Ruskies and Armenians for the fourth time in a row. It was like playing Whack-a-Mole every day before breakfast. Or brushing his teeth (which he never did). It was just starting to get _tedious._

His eyes went to the tabloid, studying the resurrectionist. Maybe he should pay the little lady a visit.

~o~

Marinette had no idea what to do. What had come over her to make her think it was a good idea to listen to _Deadpool?!_ All night, her phone had been going off the hook with calls from Alya and Nino both, along with dozens of text messages from her classmates. Some of them concerned, but many of them straight up threats and bullying from Chloe and other Adrien fans. She ignored all of them, while she curled up on top of her bed and Tikki did her best to console her.

It didn’t take long for the media to vilify her either. Honestly, she deserved it. She really just had slapped Adrien for absolutely no good reason, aside from her own fit of panic and paranoia. He was probably hurt and confused or _worse,_ righteously angry and vowing to never speak to her again. Her life was _ruined!_

The next day of her ruined life, she tried her best to brush off her mother’s awkward concern at the breakfast table. Things like, “Are you sure you’re alright, Marinette?” or “Is there anything you want to talk about, sweetie?” and things of that nature. Somehow, she managed to escape without giving away anything incriminating.

However, her walk to school felt like a death march. The requiem played in her mind with each dreaded step, her face as pale as a death mask. She’d put off going until the very last second, hoping that she could just sneak into class without anyone accosting her.

No such luck. Practically the entire school was waiting for her, hiding not very well around the gates to the school courtyard. Worse, Adrien was on the steps, obviously doing the same, while he shot agitated glares over at their audience. It wasn’t enough to deter them, just to make them shrink back a little more behind the windows and columns.

When Marinette approached, his glare fell away instantly, morphing instead into frightened congeniality. “M-Marinette, hi! Good morning!” he said, a little too quickly to be natural. “I was waiting for you. Ah, I mean, you probably figured that out.” Marinette nodded slowly, too tongue-tied to say anything. Adrien waited for a long awkward beat, before he continued nervously, “S-so, um, I was wondering, could we talk? Please?”

Marinette’s eyes flicked over to the school-wide audience, beginning to sweat under their gazes, not to mention Adrien’s imploring green eyes. “I.. e-everyone’s watching...” she whispered, just for his ears.

“Yeah, I know,” the blond replied in annoyance, sending yet another glare at the crowd. Suddenly, he took Marinette’s hands in his own, making her turn as bright red as a cherry. “Can we talk after school?” he asked earnestly. “We can go somewhere private. Just the two of us. Will you?”

Marinette squeaked, only reddening further under the devastatingly handsome gaze and his full undivided attention. Heat rushed up her spine, until it felt as though her whole body was going to melt under the intensity of it. “I... I...” she stammered. When suddenly something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

The blush fell instantly away to confused horror, when she saw Deadpool waving wildly over to her from across the street, just behind Adrien’s ear. The merc was making absolutely no sense with his hand gestures, making wide swooping motions with his arms, several fistpumps, an obscene gesture, and two thumbs up. However, one thing was clear:

The gig was up.

“I... I have to go!” Marinette cried, wrenching her hands away from the blond’s grasp to run across the street towards the red and black suited merc. Well, this was going to be another tardy mark on her record. _Great._

Stunned, Adrien spun around, just in time to see Marinette drag an all too familiar red and black suited _villain_ around the corner. His jaw dropped in horror, eyes widening. What- what was Marinette doing with _Deadpool?!_ All kinds of wild speculations came to mind, none of them good, ranging from extortion and blackmail to- to-!

His face erupted into a bright blush, imagining all sorts of nefarious things that some seedy ne'er do well could possibly want with an impressionable, beautiful fourteen year old girl. ...Naked in bed, with red satin sheets pooled around her, looking up with lustful blue eyes, her soft voice saying sweetly, _“Oh Adri-_

Adrien slapped himself across the face, (far harder than Marinette had incidentally,) snapping himself out of his rogue thoughts. This wasn’t the time for his hormones to act up! Marinette was in danger!

He was about to run off after them, when he felt a heavy hand plant on his shoulder and he looked up to see the Gorilla looming over him. Oh damn it. Flashing him a sheepish smile, Adrien headed straight inside to school, where the crowd was already dispersing due to the lack of action. He already resolved to transform into Chat the closest chance he got, before even getting to class. Fear and urgency drove him. At this point, he was already several minutes behind. Who knew _what_ Deadpool would do to Marinette in the meantime.

~o~

In said meantime...

“How did you find out who I am?!” Marinette screeched, a veritable raven haired ball of furious indignation. Her hands had found his shoulder straps again, trying to shake him. Though it wasn’t as nearly as effective without being in Ladybug mode. The pair of them were sheltered away from sight in a ratty old hotel room that stank of something unmentionable. The kind where they didn’t ask questions at the front desk when a fully suited merc brought a fourteen year old girl upstairs.

“I see you took my advice,” Deadpool replied cheerfully. He rubbed his thumb appreciatively over his chin, “So~ that’s the guy you like, huh? Cause I just gotta say, me- _yow~”_

“D-Don’t you dare think of Adrien like that!” the designer spluttered, her face erupting into a blush of embarrassment and fury. “Don’t even go near him with your filthy thoughts! He’s a sweet and pure human being! You’ll taint his innocence!”

Deadpool raised an eyebrow. “Lady-cheeks, if that’s what you think, you’ve got a thing or two to learn about teenaged-”

“And that’s the first thing!” Marinette interrupted, before he could say anything she didn’t want to hear. “How did you figure out who I am?! Are you working for Papillon?! Who else knows who I am?!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” the merc said, throwing his hands up in the air defensively before he caught mauled. “I do a _lot_ of things, but I wouldn’t do anything as fiendish as outing someone from the closet... Intentionally... Or sober... Anyway! Who’s the Butterfly?”

 _“He’s_ the one who’s been causing all this trouble in Paris,” Marinette retorted, folding her arms over her chest. “He’s the reason why Chat Noir and I constantly have to purify supervillains. They’re all his victims!”

“Wait a minute. Waaait a minute!” Deadpool cried, “So he’s your only real villain? Just the one dude?” Marinette nodded slowly. “Sooo~ If you didn’t have to fight him, you wouldn’t have to use those nifty powers of yours, would you?”

“...Not necessarily, no,” the designer conceded, although it made her feel just a little dirty for doing so. Her fury did dampen somewhat, when it became clear that Deadpool didn’t even know who their archnemesis was. Granted, he could be acting, but... to put it politely, it didn’t seem like he had the mental wherewithal to pull that off. “Deadpool, I really hope you’re not suggest-”

“Princess!” a voice called out, drawing both of their attention. Deadpool and Marinette looked over, nearly jumping out of their skin as they saw Chat Noir’s black silhouette darken the bright morning view, his eyes glowing like green embers. Chat went to Marinette instantly. She yelped as he summarily scooped her up into his arms and hopped back onto the window sill. “Stay away from her or else!” the cat snarled, before he jumped from the hotel with his prize.

When they were safely several buildings away, Chat turned a worried gaze on his classmate, “Princess, are you alright? Did he do anything to you?”

A little stunned by the genuine concern instead of the usual cocky showboating, Marinette flushed. “No, no, I’m completely fine,” she answered quickly. Then in a more self-assured voice, she added, “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

“Marinette, you just went into a hotel room with a mentally unstable, highly trained murderer for hire,” the cat argued back. “Pawdon me for being a little concerned.”

“Yeah, speaking of. How did you even know that?” Marinette asked, rather skillfully sidestepping the whole issue. She raised an eyebrow, making Chat slightly misstep. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“N-no!” he replied hastily, a little too flushed to look innocent. It was definitely kind of suspicious. “If anyone, I’d be stalking him! Like any other masked loony that comes to Paris.” Thankfully for him, they arrived on the roof of the school, where he deposited his classmate back to her feet. “Now, you should head back to class. Where it’s safe. And _please_ stay away from that guy.”

Chat made to jump down to return to class himself, but was stopped short when Marinette tugged on his tail. “Chat, wait!” she called, catching his attention again, “I think Deadpool might be going after Papillon.”

“Really?” the cat replied skeptically, “Well, then more power to him.”

“No, I mean he might just try to kill him!” Marinette insisted, causing Chat’s eyes to widen. “We can’t let him do that, Chat! Heroes aren’t supposed to kill people! Not even Papillon!”

 _“We_ are not doing anything. _You_ are going back to class and leaving this to the professionals,” Chat replied. However, he sighed and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a faint squeeze. He couldn’t help but be charmed by her good heart. To even want to spare the villain that had been plaguing their home, their families, for months now. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Okay?” he promised, grinning as she nodded.

Then a thought occurred to him. “Prrincess, before I go, could I ask you something?” He took in a long draw of air, before he let out in a rush of breath, “Why did you slap Adrien Agreste?”

Chat wasn’t quite prepared for Marinette’s face to explode into a furious red. Or for her skyblue eyes to darken like black holes. “Th-that is none of your business!” she snapped, looking like she was about ready to do the very same to this alter-ego as well. “Now go before I kick you off this roof!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” Chat replied with a stiff salute, before bolting as quickly as he could. Holy crap, that girl was terrifying! He’d very nearly forgotten about her temper. He had to get back into her good graces. His survival depended on it!

For now, he had something slightly higher on the priority list. With his whole morning in class pretty much written off, he headed back to the seedy hotel where he tracked Marinette down. Chat was only a little surprised to find Deadpool still there, kicked back on a soiled old armchair. He was chugging a whole bottle of red wine, mask pulled up over his face just enough to leave his jaw exposed. “I thought you might be back,” the merc grinned with a hideously ugly mouth wrapped in boiled and blistering skin. It made the teen’s skin crawl.

Overcoming his repulsion, Chat slid into the room and stood in front of the merc, hands folded behind his back. “Deadpool,” he said, “I want to hire you.”

~o~

Deadpool raised an eyebrow at the young cat. Well, this _was_ a surprise. He could count on one hand how many times he’d been asked to do a hit by a fellow superhero. Then again, the super-business wasn’t exactly a well paying gig. He would know. “To do what, exactly?”

“I want you to track down Papillon,” Chat Noir replied, still holding himself stiffly in the room. As if he were afraid that if he touched anything he would be contaminated.

Well, he was going to do that anyway. He wasn’t about to turn down free money. Letting out a bark of laughter, Deadpool drew down his mask and popped up to his feet, “Well! That’s awfully practical of you, pussycat. Best to leave the dirty work to the big boys.”

However, Chat held up a hand, before adding sternly, “I want him taken alive. I know you’re going after him regardless. I’ll pay you to do it humanely.”

_Uuurgh, spoke too soon. These nauseating heroic types!_

With a roll of his eyes that used his whole head, Deadpool said, “That’s going to cost extra. A _lot_ extra.”

“I’m good for it,” the black clad boy replied. He held out a hand, “Do we have a deal?”

The mercenary gave the hand a decidedly wary look. He’d seen this boy do things with that hand that made him shiver.

_Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!_

...Okay, maybe a little bit like that. Wanton destruction and chaos was _sexy._

Deadpool hummed and hawed over his decision. Money or death. Money or death. Money or death. Argh~! Both were just so terribly tempting! What was he going to do?! ...Ah, but wait. The Armenians and the Ruskies! He could kill them afterwards, while the resident goody-two-shoes were busy with their ‘villain’. Perfect! Marie Antoinette, eat your heart out.

Grinning viciously under his mask, he took Chat Noir’s hand and shook it. “You got yourself a deal.”

~o~

After having dealt with their visitor in the most mercenary way possible (ha), Adrien spent the rest of the afternoon in class driven to the point of distraction. It came out in small absentminded tics, his leg bobbing as he waited for seconds to count down, or the tapping of his stylus against his desk. What he _could_ feel was the itch underneath his skin, like fire ants crawling through his blood, the way that his heart beat in the back of his throat, or the way his back heated whenever he could feel Marinette’s gaze pass over him.

 _Nothing_ had been resolved yet. He still didn’t know why Marinette had slapped him and he never actually managed to get her to promise to talk to him about it. (There was also the matter of _why_ she went off with Deadpool in the first place, but he wasn’t tackling that kettle of fish again.) He _needed_ to be friends with her. She was one of the best, nicest people he knew. He couldn’t stand the idea that he’d somehow gotten on her bad side.

...Then there was also the question of: _What the hell did he do?!_ A very large part of him wanted to spin around and take her by the shoulders to shake the answer out of her until she coughed it up. Probably not the best idea in the long run. ...Even though it was really, really tempting. When he chanced a look back up at her, she avoided his eyes like the plague. Then when he _did_ try to talk to her during breaks, she evaded him by running off to the bathroom where he couldn’t follow. She wasn’t even giving him a chance to talk to her!

If Marinette’s goal was to drive him completely nuts, then mission accomplished.

The day just dragged on, yet somehow he managed to not absorb a single thing. The final five minutes took _forever._ Adrien was lost to his impatience, nothing but a ball of hot, nervous energy as he stared at the clock. His fingers clawed against the grain of his desk, threatening to rake his nails against the wood like a scratching post. Something, _anything,_ to relieve the pressure that was building up inside of him. Nino gave him a worried glance out of the corner of his eye, as he visibly trembled in the last five seconds, as if he were about to burst.

The bell rang. Adrien bolted, never moving so quickly (even as Chat Noir) as he cornered Marinette against her seat. “Marinette, I have to talk to you!” he cried, his hands clasped onto the desks on either side of her to make a physical barrier to keep her from escaping.

The designer went pale, looking up and away from him (again) as she charted out some route of escape. “Uh, I’m sorry, I have to- uh- Alya, c-could you move please?” she asked her best friend.

However, the blogger was having none of it. She folded her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow in a questioning look. Marinette looked frantically around, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She needed just one last push.

It was time to use his final weapon: The Prince Charming offensive à la Suoh Tamaki. He took her soft and slender fingers in his, holding it up to his chest against his beating heart. He softened his gaze, until his eyes were soft and imploring. When he spoke, he entreated earnest and gentle, “Please, Princess?”

The nickname slipped out, but she didn’t seem to notice. She squirmed, wriggling like a worm as all their classmates’ eyes focused in on them. Particularly Chloe, who stared at the spectacle like a gaping puffer fish.

“Okay, fine!” Marinette squeaked. Honestly, what choice did she have? None. That’s what.

 _YES! Finally! The modeling does something useful!_ Adrien would have whooped and fistpumped the air, but he had to keep his hand clasped tightly around hers to keep her from escaping. “Great!” he said brightly instead, already tugging her along. “You’re coming to my house.”

“A-Adrichoue!” Chloe shrilled from beside them, stamping her foot on the ground. “I will _not allow this!_ She slapped your beautiful face! How can you invite her over?!”

However, Adrien only rushed past her. “Bye Chloe! Nino!” he called, ignoring the _‘Wait til my father hears about this!’_ screeched behind them. He didn’t dare talk to Marinette yet as he essentially kidnapped her, now that they were away from their friends’ eyes. She was probably furious and a quick glance told him that her face was still a bright outraged red. He swallowed as he whipped his gaze out in front. Nonetheless, he was determined to hash this out with her.

Nathalie was a little surprised to find his accompaniment when they came out to the limo. Eyebrows raised, she looked to her tablet and said, “Adrien, you have Chinese-”

“Reschedule it,” the blond replied, holding open the door for Marinette to enter. His eyes flicked up to his ad hoc governess, _“Please,_ Nathalie?”

Apparently, he was on a roll, since the strict woman sighed and made some adjustments to the schedule. “Very well,” she said, giving Gorilla a nod as the teens clambered into the backseat. She took shotgun, leaving the pair to themselves in the back.

Adrien looked to Marinette again. She still wasn’t looking at him, her hands clasped over her knees as every inch of her radiated discomfort. It was too awkward to speak, especially with Nathalie and the Gorilla up front. Thankfully, it was a short ride and they arrived at his house. Both still balls of discomfort and nervous energy.

 _...Inviting her to my room is probably sending the wrong message,_ Adrien decided, settling down instead in one of the sitting rooms. Marinette looked so incredibly out of place here, the soft blues, pinks and browns clashing against the stark modern black and white furnishings. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but it only seemed to rattle her even more. She sat stiffly across from him on a white cubic couch, still doing an incredible job of not looking directly at him. In the awkward silence between them, the clock in the hall was eerily loud, seeming to reverberate in all the empty nooks in the house.

_~Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.~_

“So... do you want anything?” Adrien asked a little too loudly, trying to break the ice. “Water, tea? My personal chef could make you anything you like.” However, Marinette kept mum, shaking her head rapidly. The silence descended again.

_~Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.~_

The blond began to sweat, trying to think of someway to talk to her. He’d gone through all the trouble of dragging her to his house to talk. Now that he had her, he couldn’t figure out a way to actually speak! To be fair, it was a totally awkward subject. _‘Oh hey, so you slapped me... yay? Hope you got that off your chest. We can go back to being friends now, right? Also, why the hell did you do it in the first place?!-_

_~Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.~_

_-No, no, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to yell! Don’t cry! I’m sorry! Again! If it makes you feel better, you can slap me again. No, wait, don’t do it in the house. My father will have a fit and kick you out or have you arrested. ...But seriously though, why did you hit me?! No, wait, don’t leave!’_

Damn it, even his hypotheticals were going down in flames.

_~Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.~_

He seriously wanted to murder that clock right now. It was _not_ helping.

Okay. _Okay,_ he could talk to girls. He talked to girls all the time. What did he tell Nino about talking to Marinette before? (Before he found out how utterly terrifying she could be.) Just be yourself. Right. He could be himself. He could totally do that. Himself was awesome.

Adrien leaned forward, a cheshire grin spreading across his lips. Propping his chin up on his knuckles, he purred, “I have to say, that’s some arm you have on you, Princess. Do you go to the shooting range? Because I wouldn’t mind checking out your guns.”

Suddenly, Marinette stiffened, her eyes turning to stare at Adrien in stunned incredulity _._ Which is when he realized his mistake.

Oh shi- Wrong self, _wrong self!_ Already, the shocked stare had morphed into a frown, a flicker of _recognition_ floating behind her eyes.

_ABORT! ABORT-ABORT!_

Somehow, _miraculously,_ he was saved by the sound of glass crashing in another room. It was immediately followed by flashing red lights and blaring alarms as the house’s security defenses were automatically set off. Instantly, the room locked down, encasing them in metal. “Oh, thank God!” he blurted, as he jumped to his feet. At Marinette’s raised eyebrow, he hedged, putting a hand to his neck as he let out a nervous laugh, “Ah, I mean-” He pointed to the armoured door. “I should go see what that is! Marinette, you stay here.” Kicking open one of the tiles in the floor, he pulled out one of the emergency door remotes to go investigate. He froze when he felt two arms wrap around his bicep.

“I’m coming with you,” Marinette replied, her cute face scrunched up in determination. When he opened his mouth to argue, she said, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Adrien shut his jaw with an audible click. She had her class leader voice on, which meant she wasn’t about to change her mind no matter what. The blond sighed. Oh well, he didn’t quite feel right leaving her on her own regardless. His eyes flicked back to her arms wrapped around his own, her side pressed against his.

 _...This isn’t so bad,_ he decided.

Holding out the remote, Adrien never felt more like a character in Scooby-Doo as the pair of them tread carefully through the darkened halls of the bleak mansion. Then he heard the crash coming directly from his father’s private office. A lance of cold fear went through him. “Père!” he cried, throwing up the door to rush inside with Marinette hot on his heels.

What they found there was none other than Deadpool amidst a mosaic of shattered glass and porcelain. On the ground, Nathalie, the Gorilla, and his father were all bound together and gagged. Brandishing his sword, the mercenary circled the three, tapping them over the heads with the flat of his katana as he sing-songed, “Eeny, meany, miney, mo~ Catch a butterfly by its-”

Adrien did not wait for him to finish. “Deadpool!” he called out, catching the red and black suited mercenary’s attention. He felt Marinette start behind him and he thrust a protective arm out in front of her. She was already too involved as it was. “What the hell are you doing in my house? What are you doing to my family?!”

The merc turned, canting his head as he looked the blond over. “Oh, so you live here too? Jolly good!” He grabbed the teen by the arm, tugging him over to the main group. Adrien hissed as the sword tip was pressed underneath his chin. Suddenly, his so-called ‘deal’ with this maniac looked like a distant fantasy. “Now you stay here with this bunch, pretty boy, while I figure out which one of you is Papillon.”

 _“Papillon?!”_ Adrien and Marinette cried simultaneously. “It can’t be me/him!” They looked to each other, before their eyes went instantly to the trio that were still bound and gagged. If Gabriel’s eyes didn’t spell murder before, they did now with the blade pointed against his son’s throat. Adrien let out a breath of relief. Of course, it couldn’t be his father. His father cared too much about him, in his own distant way. He wasn’t evil.

With eyes defiant, Adrien turned back to Deadpool. “It’s not me. It’s not any of us. I would know if Papillon was right under my nose.”

“And I would take the word of a stereotypically oblivious blond, why?” the merc asked snidely.

“Because,” Adrien said, his eyes flicking past Deadpool over to his classmate. This was getting dangerous. His father was in mortal peril and Marinette was caught up out of her depth. All because of him. He had to fix this. Even if it meant leaving himself exposed. “...I’m the one that hired you.”

It wouldn’t make any sense to anyone but Deadpool. Even then, he was a very dangerous person to know. The merc’s eyes widened, taking a step back from Adrien. Oddly, his head whipped from him to Marinette to him again, in a series of constant double-takes. Then he let out what could only be described as a squeal. “It’s a SQUARE!” he cried. “HOLY MONKEY SACKS! It’s a SQUARE!”

Adrien had no idea what he was on about, but it did look like he wasn’t about to get shishkebabed in the next minute or so. “Look,” he said, pressing a finger against Deadpool’s chest, “I hired you to capture Papillon _,_ not to gag and hogtie my father and our employees and threaten to skewer them. You’re completely barking up the wrong tree!”

At this, the mercenary let out a long considering hum. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what the unstable hero was planning to do. To their immense relief, he shrugged and sheathed his sword. “Eh, you’re probably right. This has massive story arc and plot twists written all over it. And ain’t nobody got time for that.” He turned to Adrien. “I’m still expecting to get paid though.”

The blond grit his teeth. All he paid for was a home invasion, but at this point he just wanted the merc finally out of their lives. “Fine,” he said, going over to his father’s desk. He scribbled something and then handed Deadpool an IOU. The merc blinked at it. “I told you I was good for it,” Adrien said defensively, “I didn’t say when. I don’t get access to my trust until years from now.”

Deadpool stared at the piece of paper. Then he let out a guffaw as he ruffled Adrien’s hair. “Ah! Blondie, you remind me of a little me! It’s adorable!”

Adrien’s face drained of blood. “Please don’t say that,” he said, unable to mask his horror.

The merc only snapped up the IOU and stuffed it in one of his various pockets. Then he announced loudly to the ceiling for the benefit of everyone to hear, “Welp! I’m off to do some dirty work! As long as I’m left to my own devices and no one gives someone else a reason to pull a magic redo in the next 24 hours, I won’t have to come back here!” It had all the marks of a cheerful threat on it, but Adrien still didn’t know whose benefit it was really for. Then Deadpool turned to the model. “Now, how do I get out of here?”

Knowing he was probably going to regret this, Adrien opened up the armoured shield over the window that the merc crashed through. Deadpool turned to the teens and said cheerfully, “Well, it’s been real! Good luck with your love problems, Miss DC. I’ll give your Daddy your regards next time I see him!”

“I told you, he’s not-!” Marinette puffed up, before she slumped and gave up entirely, _“Ugh,_ never mind.”

Then Deadpool slugged Adrien in the shoulder, making him wince. “And you! Go get ‘em, tiger,” he said with a very conspicuous wink that sent a cold sweat down his shoulders.

“Ah...haha, yeah...” the blond laughed weakly. “Now, please just go?”

“And don’t come back,” Marinette added flatly.

“Believe me, I ain’t never coming back to this snoot factory if I can help it,” Deadpool replied as he hopped up to the window sill. He jumped out, singing loudly and out of tune as he departed, _“~Oh Canada! Terre de nos aïeux, Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux~”_

Adrien waited until the song was just out of range before he ran over to Nathalie, the Gorilla and his father to free them. “Are you all alright?” he asked, eyes wide with worry. “Did he hurt you at all?”

“We’re fine, Adrien,” his governess assured him, as the Gorilla helped them all up to their feet. “Mr. Agreste, shall I call the police?”

“And explain to them how my son hired the man in the first place? I think not,” Gabriel Agreste said coldly. Dusting himself off, he clasped his hands behind his back, as unflappable as ever despite his ordeal. Then he turned an icy glare on the young blond, that made Adrien swallow hard. He was in _deep_ trouble.

Surprisingly, Marinette spoke up, coming to his rescue. “Mr. Agreste, it’s my fault,” she insisted, though that couldn’t _possibly_ be the case. “Adrien found out from me that Deadpool was going to kill Papillon. So he paid Deadpool off instead.”

Adrien had no idea how she could have possibly guessed that. However, he went cold for another reason entirely. Marinette only told _Chat_ about Deadpool, which meant...

_She knows. She KNOWS!_

A hand went to his shoulder, distracting him from his sudden spiraling panic. His green eyes snapped up to meet his father’s cool ones. “Adrien, is this true?”

“I...” Well, it _was._ Adrien glanced at Marinette, hoping that the fallout wouldn’t come down on her. “...Yes. I didn’t want Deadpool to hurt anyone. Even Papillon. But don’t blame Marinette for this!” he insisted fervently. “She had no idea I made a deal with him until just now! I swear!”

Gabriel Agreste looked between the two teens’ faces, his expression unreadable as ever. Then he released a long sigh. “Very well. I shall overlook this as an extremely misguided act of altruism,” he said with a shake of his head. “I hope you both learn your lesson not to cavort with the likes of murderers and mercenaries again.” Both of them nodded quickly, a little stunned they were getting off so easily. Then again, Gabriel Agreste wasn’t exactly the most stellar parent in the world. “Nathalie, escort Adrien to his room and make sure Ms. Dupain-Cheng gets home safely. We’ve had quite enough excitement for tonight.”

Nathalie nodded, putting a hand on each of the teens’ shoulders to show them out.

“Oh, Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel called again, catching Marinette’s attention. “I would appreciate it if you exercised some discretion in this matter. This would easily be... misconstrued in certain news outlets. As I’m sure you understand,” he added, letting the implication hang like a guillotine over her neck.

Marinette went pale and nodded. Message received loud and clear.

In the foyer, the two separated. Not before Adrien took Marinette’s hands in his. “We’ll talk soon,” he promised, before he was dragged off to his room. As she was taken out to the limo, Marinette didn’t doubt that she was going to get a certain kitty come to visit that night.

~o~

Deadpool whistled as he headed off to the Russian mob base, hopefully on his fourth and final try at killing them all. The door to the basement was locked and barricaded. Nothing a little C4 couldn’t fix. The doors exploded into the dark, mouldy basement and the merc strode through the smoke and fire with guns ablazing.

“Alright, potato-knockers! You’re finally going down! Come at me!” he cried, ready for the firestorm. None came. Which is when he did a doubletake as he looked on the scene.

The Ruskies cowered in a corner of the room, their eyes wide and haunted. “Nyet! Please!” one of the mobsters cried, holding out his hands in placation to the mercenary. “No more! Ve cannot take zis anymore! Dying and undying and dying again! Please, if you are going to kill us, just do it qvuickly!”

Deadpool stared at the sad sack of Ruskies, trembling with fear. He cocked a gun, making them all yelp and whimper. One of them even pissed their pants.

Letting out a groan of frustration, the merc cried, “Oh, you’re no fun anymore!” Then he pulled out an uzi. “But since you asked nicely...”

After the massacre, Deadpool whistled as he headed back up into the fresh air of the Parisian street. Where he was pleasantly surprised to find a certain bug-themed hero and a black cat. The merc’s eyes went wide. “SPIDEY~!” he cried, launching himself at his bestest brah with arms outstretched.

Spider-Man sidestepped him, letting the merc fall to his face. However, Deadpool was undeterred as he tried again and successfully managed to glomp onto him this time. “Spidey, what are you doing all the way in Paris?! Have you come to see lil’ ol’ moi?”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” Spider-Man asked, radiating irritation. “You’ve been sending me pics of some random girl all week claiming she’s my love-child! Why are you harassing little girls now?!”

“I’m not _harassing_ her! She can take care of herself just fine!” Deadpool’s gaze turned over to the silver haired Black Cat, who only looked on all this with amusement. “What about you? You two back together again?”

“Me? Oh no, I’m here because I speak French. Spider-Man needed a translator,” the reformed art thief replied, then her lips twisted into a smirk, “Also I wanted to see the fireworks.”

“No, NO! We are just taking him home!” Spider-Man insisted, grabbing Deadpool by the arm, fit to drag him off to whatever mode of transportation they came in. It could be either Tony Stark’s private jet or even the X-Jet for all the connections that he had. “He’s done enough damage as it is!”

“Oh, but Spidey, _please~!”_ Deadpool pleaded, clasping his hands together. “You can’t come all this way without acknowledging the fruit of your loins! At least meet her! Please, oh please, oh please~!”

“Don’t call her that! I don’t have a French love-child!” Spider-Man cried in indignation. He stopped short when a clawed hand clasped his shoulder. He turned to see Felicia smiling ever so sweetly at him.

“Would you really leave without giving some encouragement to our young protégées?” she purred, “They would be _so_ excited to meet you.”

Spider-Man looked between Black Cat to Deadpool to Black Cat again. Then he groaned and sank his head into his palm. _“Fine~”_ he sighed, before adding, “You two both suck. I hope you know that.”

~o~

Meanwhile, the sun began to set over Paris, casting a rosy hue over its streets. Sitting atop of her balcony, Marinette watched the sun lower over the Seine, all the meanwhile waiting for Chat Noir to arrive. Her stomach tied itself up in knots, nervously anticipating his arrival. _Adrien’s_ arrival. Oh God, she had been rejecting _Adrien_ as Chat Noir this entire time! And slapped him because of a love triangle that didn’t even exist!

If her life wasn’t ruined before, it sure was now! Groaning, she sank her head against her knees, curling up into a fetal position on top of her chair.

Tikki hovered over her, giving her chosen a consoling pat on the shoulder. “Marinette, it will be okay,” she said kindly. “Adrien is a good boy and Chat Noir has always been understanding. You’ll both come out of this just fine.”

“I hope so, Tikki,” Marinette sighed, though she wasn’t particularly convinced herself. She spotted a familiar black figure out of the corner of her eye and hissed, “Tikki, hide.”

Chat Noir arrived, landing lightly on her balcony railing. The cat didn’t look his cocky, self-assured self either. His posture seemed to have shrunken, slightly cowed, his green eyes bright and nervous. He managed a small wave. “H-hi, Marinette.”

“Hi... Adrien,” the designer replied, figuring she might as well put it out there in the open. It made Chat turn slightly green, but he slipped down to stand properly on the balcony.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he said with a weak laugh. Taking her hands, he turned an imploring look on her. “Marinette, please, _please_ keep this to yourself. I know it’s going to be hard, since you’re best friends with Alya, but believe me the safety of my friends and family depends on it. _Your_ safety too,” he insisted. “Papillon will do whatever it takes to get an edge.”

Marinette smiled. Well, this was one promise she could keep easily. “Of course, A- Chat Noir,” she said, squeezing his hands back. “I completely understand. Your secret is safe with me. I swear.”

At this, Chat let out a huge sigh of relief. Then he grinned, seeming to come back to himself. “So~ what do you think?” he asked, his arms outstretched. “How’s it feel to have a superhero for a friend? It’s really cool, no? Fighting bad guys, kicking ass, saving princesses,” he added slyly, giving her a wink.

Despite herself, Marinette couldn’t help but giggle. This cat really was never going to change. Somehow, strangely, knowing that it was Adrien behind the mask made it all the sweeter. He was so happy and _free,_ in a way that he couldn’t be as the Agreste heir. It only made her all the more glad for him. “Yes, it’s very, _very_ cool,” she agreed, good naturedly.

Chat only grinned brighter. Then the smile faltered as a thought occurred to him. “Oh, that’s right!” he said, slapping a fist against his palm. In a more subdued voice, he asked, “So... I’ve been meaning to ask you... _Why_ did you slap me earlier?”

At once Marinette’s stomach dropped. Oh _no._ This is what she’d been dreading. “Uhhh...” she said, ever so intelligently, “Well, you see... there was this thing... a-and... Well, I was talking to Deadpool and he was talking about Spider-Man and his love life... Because I didn’t know about the two of you, it was just... a complete misunderstanding?”

The blond stared at her, not understanding a word of it. “Um... what?”

“Th-the point is I shouldn’t have listened to Deadpool!” the designer stammered out, her mind beginning to spin and overheat in her panic. Though honestly, that should have gone without saying. “And now that I know who you are, it’s completely moot anyway!”

“...Wait, you knowing I’m Chat Noir makes it moot?” Chat asked, no less perplexed. “Marinette, you’re making no sense. Please, just tell me why. If I did do something wrong, I want to fix it. Not get a free pass because I’m a superhero.”

Marinette only grew more flustered. “Can’t you just drop it?!”

“You _slapped_ me! How am I supposed to drop it?!” the blond cried, “Why can’t you just tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m trusting _you_ with my biggest secret.”

“Oh, you-! You-!” Marinette huffed, turning redder and redder in her frustration. Both at herself and for the cat for pushing and guilting her. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “I slapped you because I liked Adrien, you stupid cat!” she finally caved, letting loose the truth with a stamp of her foot. “And it was a problem because of this! Tikki, transforme moi!”

With a flash of red light, Ladybug stood in Marinette’s place. Her face was a blistering, furious red, caught somewhere in anger and embarrassment. “There, you get it now?!”

Chat didn’t respond. His eyes went wide and his jaw had dropped to the floor. It was lucky he still wasn’t on the railing, since he staggered back off balance. “Ma- Ma-” he sounded, pointing a trembling finger at her, rendered completely insensible. “Ma-!” Ladybug was tempted to slap him again, just to knock some sense back into him.

“Oh hey look! It’s a party! Can we join?”

Said a voice that neither of them _ever_ wanted to hear again. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked up to the connecting roof, giving a violent start when they saw not just Deadpool, but two additional heroes as well. A fully suited hero with a spider motif in blue and red and a very... _buxom_ silver haired lady dressed in black equipped with mask, claws and collar. The teens stared at them, wide eyed and jaws dropped.

They seemed to be inspiring the same reaction in the two new heroes, as the three jabbered incomprehensibly in Anglais. That was when the cat woman dropped down to the balcony beside them, soon followed by the spider man and Deadpool. “Good evening,” she said sweetly in perfect French, giving the teens a wave, “Aren’t you absolutely adorable? Deadpool was right to bring us to meet you. _Love_ the costume,” she purred, chiming the little bell at Chat’s throat. “I’m Black Cat. This is Spider-Man. And you are...?”

Chat was as red as a tomato, his eyes trying very hard not to look at the heroine’s assets very much on display. “I-I-I’m Chat Noir,” he stammered awkwardly, averting his eyes only to see Ladybug giving him a Glare of Death. His eyes snapped back to Black Cat’s face. “And this is my partner, Ladybug,” he said with a nervous grin, gesturing to her.

“I can speak for myself, thank you,” Ladybug said icily, even as raging hot jealousy burned through her as the much more mature woman paid attention to her kitty, _her_ Adrien. She took Chat’s arm, tugging him possessively over to her side. Chat’s eyes flicked over in her direction in surprise. His cheeks still red with a blush, a small dopey grin spread over his lips.

Spider-Man and Black Cat exchanged a look. Her lips spread into a knowing smile, while he made some scoffing comment. Then, Spider-Man extended a hand over to Ladybug and said something. Black Cat translated, “He says, It’s very nice to meet you. Good job and thank you for your hard work.”

This time, it was Ladybug’s turn to blush. Despite the fact that she couldn’t see his face, it was hard not to be flattered when a very _fit,_ much more mature superhero congratulated you for your work. “Y-you’re welcome!” she stammered, taking his hand to shake. “Uh- I-I mean, thank you! Thank you for everything you do too!”

Chat’s eyes narrowed into slits as he watched.

Somehow missing this, Ladybug smiled and took Spider-Man’s shoulders to go up on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to either side of his cheek. “That is how we say hello in France,” she said with a blushing grin.

Chat’s scowl only darkened further, beginning to bristle. Only his female counterpart noticed as smiled to herself.

“Aww, you’re making Spidey blush~!” Deadpool cooed, wrapping an arm around Spider-Man’s shoulders. _How_ he could tell was an absolute mystery. “Ooh, selfie-time!” He spoke in Anglais to Spider-Man again, who seemed to only sigh at his antics. “Yes!” the merc whooped. “Okay, everyone crowd around together!” With a little bit of finagling, they managed to get all five in the shot together, with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the middle and their older counterparts on either side of them, while Deadpool pulled some bunny ears over Spider-Man’s head.

In this position, with Black Cat pressed against Chat’s side, it have the silver haired woman every opportunity to whisper into his ear without anyone noticing. “Chat Noir, don’t make the same mistake that I did,” she murmured softly, “Don’t you ever let that bug go.”

Before Chat could reply, the flash lit and captured the image.

With the greatest reluctance, Ladybug provided her contact information to Deadpool. If only because if such a picture existed and she didn’t get it to Alya somehow, her best friend would never _ever_ forgive her. Ladybug or not.

“Don’t be strangers now! Look us up if you’re ever in New York!” Deadpool called, as he was finally dragged away by Spider-Man and Black Cat. Away from them and away from Paris.

Both Ladybug and Chat Noir let out a sigh of relief with Deadpool out of their lives for the foreseeable future. “Well, that was bracing,” Ladybug said, putting her hands to her hips. Then she sent a dark look in Chat’s direction. “Although you were getting awfully cozy with Black Cat...” she added, unable to disguise the dark curl of jealousy in her voice.

Chat Noir stared at her, more than a little disoriented from the revelations all around in just the past half hour. Yet at the heart of it all, he was just a boy in love with a girl, who slapped him because she liked him back. Then there were the words that Black Cat had whispered, words of experience and of longing.

There was really only one thing that he could do.

Without warning, he cupped Ladybug’s face and leaned in. She only had a chance to squeak, before his lips claimed hers in a heated kiss. She went stiff only briefly, before she melted into him. No longer needed, their transformations fell away, leaving Adrien and Marinette locked in an embrace with one another, while their kwamis cooed and gagged respectively.

Adrien pulled back for a breath, which only caught in his throat as he looked on Marinette’s flushed face, her swollen lips and her peerless sky blue eyes. A broad smile spread over his lips, a wellspring of happiness overflowing his heart. “I love you, Marinette,” he said softly, brushing a thumb gently down her cheek.

Her face only grew rosier with a comely blush. “I... I love you, too, Adrien,” she breathed. She couldn’t realize how the words made him heat and tingle all over and made his heart soar. As though he could fly, powers or no powers. Unable to help himself, Adrien leaned in to kiss her again and again and _again._   
  
From a few miles away, Deadpool let out a cheer as he watched the scene from his binoculars sprawled out over some rooftop shingles. “They’re kissing! They’re totally kissing!” he cried out, fist pumping in the air. “O-ooh! More than kissing. Wow, they’re so _French-_ ”

“Deadpool, will you stop perving out over there and get over here?” Spider-Man demanded, still trying to tug the merc away from the scene and back to their jet. “Stop watching them! They’re like fifteen years old!”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Spidey! You should be happy your French love-baby has found love!”

“Will you shut up about that! She is not my love-child!” Spider-Man cried, ready to throttle the mercenary into the ground. He stopped short when Felicia laughed aloud.

“Leave him be. It’s cute,” Black Cat said with a soft smile. “And admit it, it does kind of remind you of us, doesn’t it?” she added, nudging him in the shoulder.

At this, Spider-Man was silent for a long pause. Then he conceded, “Maybe a little.” Coughing lightly, his attention went back to the merc, grabbing him by the belt. “C’mon ‘Pool. It’s about time you left Paris alone.”


End file.
